To Repair a Heart
by Ice Cube1
Summary: In the 1950's Pediatric Cardiology was a fairly new field. That didn't stop Dr Killian Jones from accepting it as a challenge. When Emma Swan brings Henry to his office with a rare birth defect that threatens his life, they will have to fight together to save his life. That's all there is - she's his patient's mother and he's her son's doctor. Until that isn't all there is.


**_Here's my submission to the csjanuaryjoy's month-long celebration of fics. There will *eventually* be a second part that delves into what the original prompt asked for, but I want all of the brownie points for saving the super-angsty part of this until after this month._**

* * *

A hole. In Henry's _heart_.

The world started to narrow and the explanation that the pediatrician gave started to get a bit fuzzy, the words replaced by a loud buzzing in Emma's ears. Her little boy had always been sickly, had always been tired and weak, but his doctors back in Arizona had assured her that it was just his constitution.

Just over a year ago, Emma had finally saved up enough money to take the train back East to her brother and his promise of a happy life for Henry. David could give her son things that she couldn't - new toys and the trip last year to see _Peter Pan_ when it came out in the movie theaters, time to help Henry with his homework and to read him stories, a real tree on Christmas and an entire weekend spent decorating it. Heaven knew she couldn't provide any of that for her son, not alone out West.

She had tried.

Emma had worked every extra shift that the manager would give her, saved every penny to put towards Henry's well-being, smiled as she sewed another worn out patch in her dress while her son paraded about their small apartment in his new school shoes. But every time she had to miss a shift for one of Henry's appointments, she realized that they were just barely getting by. Henry needed _her_ , and moving in with David and his wife Mary Margaret could help with that.

At the very least, it meant that she wouldn't have to cry herself to sleep at night anymore.

But now, the new pediatrician was talking about Henry's heart and how much longer he could be expected to _survive_ and Emma was caught up in the ridiculous thought that if she hadn't moved back to Boston, then maybe her little boy wouldn't be so sick.

Wouldn't be dying.

She couldn't think about the fact that if she hadn't been so stubborn, if she hadn't kept them in Arizona for so long hoping that _he_ would come back to them (to _her_ ), if she had just listened to David, then maybe Henry would have had more of a chance. The doctor could have found the hole earlier and maybe he could have treated it and the symptoms more effectively. She couldn't think about the fact that she believed Henry's grim prognosis was entirely her fault.

Because thinking like that wouldn't help. If she thought like that, Emma would never get up out of the chair in the pediatrician's office and go back to wrap her little boy up in the biggest hug she could manage. She wouldn't take him out for ice cream and then to Boston Garden to watch the swans.

She wouldn't be able to function, let alone keep Henry from figuring out that something was wrong.

"Mrs. Swan?" the pediatrician had moved around his desk and was reaching down to place a hand on her shoulder and lightly shake her out of the stupor she had fallen into. "I know this is difficult to hear. Can I call your husband for you?"

Of course. He didn't know. He couldn't know that Henry's father was never coming. That it had taken her almost eight years to come to terms with the fact that Neal hadn't taken their combined life savings to Florida in order to put a down payment on a home on the beach for them. That even if he'd known about Henry, he'd never come back.

That he was just a grifter who'd swindled her and broken her heart.

Somehow, Emma managed a smile and a shake of her head, and didn't correct the erroneous title or the supposition. She was a _Miss_ , not a _Mrs._ , but that didn't matter. She'd soldier on - for Henry. At least until she got him tucked into bed that night and could drown the diagnosis under the haze of a drink or twenty.

She thought David might understand - just this once.

Emma waited anxiously for the nurse to bring Henry out of the pediatrics ward, wiping under her eyes to make sure that he wouldn't see that she wanted to cry. She needed to be strong for him, her little ray of sunshine in this dreary world.

And he never failed to disappoint. Henry's face lit up when he came through the door, the circles under his eyes masked for the moment by the smile that stretched from ear to ear. He took two steps at a run before Emma saw his shoulders heave and he slowed to a walk. His tiny cough echoed in her ears, reminding her of the doctor's prognosis.

A hole in his heart. Possible permanent damage. Heart failure.

Birth defect.

All she kept hearing was the last one. Birth defect. Her fault. It must be her fault.

Emma reached out and tugged Henry close, kissed the top of his head, and then lifted him into her arms. Her son was so small, so much smaller than his classmates.

And now she knew why.

"Is everything okay, Momma?" Henry's voice whispered in her ear. He sniffled a little bit before pulling back to look her in the eyes.

It felt like he was looking into her soul.

Emma smiled, guiding Henry's head down to her shoulder and tucking him under her chin. She tucked his new prescription - a fairly new drug that might help some of the symptoms - into her coat pocket. Nothing was okay at the moment.

"Of course it is, kid," she lied through her teeth. "Let's get out of here, hmm?"

Henry nodded, his hand coming up to fist in her collar.

"Mrs. Swan?" the doctor had followed her out to the ward. "I'm sorry I can't offer you different news. But I have a colleague who does research in… this area. Perhaps you could call on him?"

He handed her a slip of paper with a name and an office number on it.

 _Dr. Killian Jones  
Boston Children's Hospital  
Suite 713_

Another doctor. Another opportunity for someone to tell her there was nothing they could do.

But maybe another chance that Henry's diagnosis might not be the end of the road.

Emma knew that she'd be in Doctor Jones' office before the end of the week.

* * *

Killian Jones scrubbed a hand down his face before he practically fell face-first onto the exam table in his office. The surgery he'd just performed had taken hours longer than he'd anticipated and when it became clear that he couldn't save his patient, the day's toil had bowed his shoulders.

He never wanted to tell another mother that she'd never speak to her child again.

Killian took five minutes to melt into the hard padding of the table, letting every muscle in his body relax and trying to put the sounds of that mother's wails out of his head. He still had plenty of rounds to make today, plenty of sneers from his colleagues who saw the fairly new specialty of pediatric cardiology as either useless or witchcraft.

And he had a new-patient consultation for a young boy who had been referred to him earlier in the week.

Killian didn't know which part of the rest of his day he was looking forward to the least.

When his five minutes were up, Killian inhaled until his chest hurt and then blew out the breath forcibly. He stood, stretched as best he could, and ignored the fact that he still had more hours to go in his shift than he'd completed.

Sleep was for the dead.

Killian completed his rounds on the pediatric ward, secretly hating the restrictions in place at the hospital. Part of him was morbidly glad that almost all of his cases could be passed off as critical enough to require unlimited parental visiting hours, but every so often his patients would end up in the general ward, only allowed an hour a week with their mother and two hours with their father.

The patient he was currently looking for, a ten-year old who he had operated on just two days ago, was missing from his assigned bed. Killian closed his eyes for a moment, ignoring the muffled whimpers of the other children as he blew out the frustration that was building.

Young Ian Wallace, he found out quickly from the nurse in charge, had been causing too much trouble when he woke up - crying for his family and begging to go home.

The nurse had the boy moved to an isolation room so he would stop disturbing the other children.

Killian found Ian, looking small and pathetic in the dark room. He was in the middle of a blood transfusion, his arm strapped to a board splint. The boy looked up to meet Killian's eyes, and tears started to course down his face.

"Please, Dr. Jones," he whispered. "Please let me go back with the other boys. I promise I won't cause any more trouble."

Killian gritted his teeth, moving to check Ian's vital signs. The poor boy looked terrified as he moved closer. "Of course, lad," he whispered back.

He'd have Ian moved back to the general ward as soon as he was done in the room - and see about getting him onto the exceptions list as well. The boy would heal far more quickly if he wasn't so lost without his parents.

Two arguments and a trip around the ward later and Ian was back where he belonged, his mother doting on him, and Killian was running late for the consultation with his newest patient. He had half a mind to postpone; he needed to prepare for an emergency case that was being sent up to him and he wasn't in the right headspace quite yet. If he hurried, he could make it to his office and have the consult headed off at the reception desk.

There was a beautiful blonde woman standing at his door.

Killian froze for a moment, transfixed by the lost look on her face, the one that he'd seen a hundred times in the mirror. The look of a lost soul.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" he called out softly so as not to startle her before he moved towards his office once more. Killian figured that he could help her quickly and then get his consultation pushed off until tomorrow or the next day.

"Are you…" she looked down at a slip of paper and then behind her at the door to his office. "Doctor Jones?"

Killian nodded helplessly, thoughts of a few moments to himself spiraling uselessly away. It seemed he was later than he thought. If she was here about the consultation, then he couldn't avoid it. But where was her husband? Not to mention the child that would presumably be his patient.

"Doctor... _Killian_ Jones?" she asked again, and Killian realized he'd been silent too long.

"Aye, lass," he finally spoke. "At your service."

She nodded. "I was afraid I might have gotten misdirected. We were supposed to meet at 2:30?"

"My apologies, lass. I was unavoidably delayed." Killian moved past her to unlock his office door, ushering her inside. He waited until she was seated before sitting at his desk. "How can I help you, Mrs…"

"Miss Swan. Or you can call me Emma." She wrung her fingers nervously, the file in her lap nearly falling to the floor.

Killian balked a bit at the informality. "Ms. Swan, I understand that you need a second opinion?"

Ms. Swan… _Emma,_ his mind traitorously supplied, nodded again, clutching the medical file to her chest before handing it over. Killian raised an eyebrow, then opened to charts and records for one "Henry Swan, age 8". The diagnosis was clear, and the prognosis that Killian's colleague had spelled out was grim. For any other doctor, a prescription of palliative care to ease the boy's symptoms until he passed would be the only logical choice.

But Killian refused to accept the status quo. This would be a challenge, yes, but with some research, he could hopefully come to a better conclusion. And Killian Jones did _love_ a challenge.

"May I ask why you've come here today, Ms. Swan?"

Emma balked, tears coming to her eyes as she reached for the file. "Henry's pediatrician said that you might be able to… I'm sorry to have wasted your time."

Killian pulled the file out of her reach. "I didn't mean… I think I can help your son. I was just wondering why you were here rather than…"

He trailed off when Emma's bare left hand came into his line of sight. She followed his gaze before gripping her hands together. _Bloody hell_ , he thought, she'd said _Miss_ and not _Ms_. He still had trouble with the American accent sometimes. Killian's ears went red as his brother's voice berated him in his thoughts. That wasn't good form, and Liam would be mortified.

"I apologize. I should have realized. I'd… I'd like to meet your son, get a better idea for his overall health and disposition. I don't want to promise anything, but I'd like to try - if you'll let me." Killian knew she would be completely justified to storm out after his uncouth question. He only hoped that she would stay, that she would let him meet her Henry.

She looked him over for a long moment, and Killian was struck by the uncanny realization that she was sizing him up - and he wasn't sure if he would pass muster.

Emma let him squirm for another long minute before she nodded sharply. "On one condition, Doctor Jones. You will not _ever_ mention Henry's father in front of him. Do you understand?"

The fierce hiss told Killian more about Em… Miss Swan's relationship with Henry's absent father than she had intended for him to know. _Don't mention the man who made her this angry_. He could do that.

Killian only hoped that down the road, they didn't need information or more from the man.

He nodded his assent, closing the file and adding it to his 'urgent' pile. "Of course, Miss Swan. If you can bring your boy by tomorrow at the same time, we can talk about his continuing care."

Emma stood, reached out to shake Killian's hand, and then practically flew out of his office.

* * *

Emma watched as Doctor Jones listened to Henry's heart and lungs. Her little boy looked so small on the exam table, and every so often he would turn to look at her with wide, scared eyes. Each time he did, the doctor would draw his attention back to what was being done, letting Henry listen in the stethoscope or shine the light back in the blue eyes that had captivated Emma in the office the day before.

Her boy had seen so many doctors in so many different exam rooms in the past few years. More than one had hinted that she was being paranoid, dragging Henry in and wasting their time. To see this doctor take a keen interest in not only her son's health, but also in making sure her little boy understood the process, loosened the knot that her heart had been tied up in since she got to Boston.

Emma wasn't ready to believe that things would be all right, but she was willing to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

He believed her. He wanted to help Henry. He didn't think that treatment was futile.

It may be false hope, but Mary Margaret always told her that a little bit of hope could see them all a long way.

Emma realized she had been daydreaming for too long when Henry's coughing drew her attention. She took three steps towards the table, but Doctor Jones beat her to it, rubbing Henry's back and encouraging him to "just breathe, lad."

"Sorry, Miss Swan. I didn't mean to alarm you," the doctor apologized. "I had Master Henry, here, hold his breath for as long as he could."

"I held my breath for a _long_ time, Momma!" There was a grin on her boy's face and two pink spots on his cheeks.

The look on Doctor Jones's face told Emma that it was not, in fact, a 'long time' for an eight-year old to hold his breath. Without contradicting Henry's assertion, however, a note was made on his chart and the doctor hung his stethoscope around his neck. "I think we're all set, Henry. Can you stay here for a minute while I speak to your lovely mother?"

"All right, Killian!"

"Henry!" Emma was flabbergasted. She had taught her son better manners than that! "You don't-"

Henry's chin immediately dropped to his chest, a frown etched onto his features.

"-Oh, that's all right, Miss Swan. I asked him to call me that. 'Dr. Jones' just sounds so stuffy, don't you think?" His look matched Henry's as they both turned to smile charmingly at her.

Emma continued to look at them both suspiciously. She had seen that look on her boy's face before, usually before he hatched some outlandish 'operation' that ranged anywhere from finding her a new husband to staying up past his bedtime.

"It's all right if Killian says it is, right Momma? You let me call Uncle David by his first name…" the charming smile turned to confusion as Henry tried to work out the nuances between rules for family and acquaintances.

Doctor Jones ducked his head to catch her eye, smiling brighter when she looked at him. "I assure you, Miss Swan, I prefer that all my long term patients call me Killian. Makes conversations a bit less formal, yeah?"

Emma knew when she was beaten. "Of course, Doctor Jones. Yes, Henry, you may call him Killian."

Henry beamed.

And really, wouldn't she let her son do just about anything if it meant she'd see that smile one more time?

"All right now, lad. You stay here for just a moment so I can speak with your Mum and then we'll get you both on your way." Doctor Jones ruffled Henry's hair before leading her just outside the exam room.

Emma felt the bolt of fear shoot straight through her. If Henry couldn't hear what he had to say…

"I won't lie to you, Miss Swan. Your boy's condition is serious. The hole in and of itself is an issue since it never closed on its own. But the complications that can arise from it are what have me more worried." He reached out and lay his hand on her forearm.

Emma could feel herself trembling under his touch.

"Then there's nothing to do?" she whispered, terrified to hear his affirmation.

But he shook his head. "Now, I didn't say that. I'd like to take him on as a full-time patient so we can monitor his progress and he'll have a consistent care manager to modify his treatment as time goes by." Killian smiled, his accent washing over her and soothing her as he continued.

"I'd like to change a few medications that you've got him on currently, add one or two, and I'd like to see him once a month for the next year or so to see how they're working. Beyond that, I need to do some research - this is a fairly new field of medicine we're working in here, and it's going to take some time to figure everything out."

The tremors eased as Emma started to believe what he was telling her. "So he might have a chance?"

"A good chance. Yes. I told you yesterday that I think I can help him, and I intend to put everything into fixing this as best I can." Killian paused, and his smile dropped a little. "I won't promise you that he's ever going to lead a completely normal life, but I don't think this is a death sentence either."

His prognosis was far more than Emma would have hoped for since learning about the hole in her son's heart, and the sheer relief washed over her in a deluge that left her shaky and in tears. "Th- thank you, Doctor Jones. I can't… I don't know what I would have done if…"

He reached out a hand slowly, the look on his face a little bit hesitant as he cupped the side of her face and brushed the tears away. Emma tensed for a moment at the contact, but melted into it a second later.

It had been a long time since someone other than her brother or his wife had comforted her.

"What I said to Henry goes for you, too, lass. I'd be honored if you would call me Killian," he whispered. His hand was still on her cheek, and she leaned into it a bit.

"I believe I asked you yesterday to call me Emma," she whispered back.

The tips of Doct… Killian's ears went red and his free hand rose to scratch behind his ear. "Ah, yes. So you did. Would you consider calling me by my first name? Emma?"

One corner of her mouth ticked up involuntarily at the way her name rolled off his tongue. She had never been a fan of "Miss Swan", the name a stark reminder that she was nothing more than a foundling who had 'accidentally' wandered off from the orphanage when she was twelve and spent two years hiding in farmhouses and making her way across the country after the Depression. If it weren't for Ruth Nolan, visiting her ailing mother and finding Emma half-starved in the barn, she didn't know where she would have ended up.

Certainly not with a son who meant everything to her and a handsome doctor asking her to call him by his first name.

Emma sniffled quietly, trying to get her emotions under control as she managed a small smile. She wondered briefly what on Earth she was _doing_. This was Henry's doctor, not some man that Mary Margaret was trying to convince her to 'give a chance to'. There needed to be boundaries. There needed to be space.

"Emma?" he asked again, and the way Killian bit his lip nervously swayed her in the other direction.

"I'd like that. Killian."

* * *

It didn't take Killian long to start looking forward to Henry's appointments. The boy in question was inquisitive and had a smile on his face just about every time he was at an appointment. Even the weeks when Henry wasn't feeling well, usually with changes in the weather or run of the mill childhood illnesses that sapped his strength, the boy was upbeat. In a world where most of Killian's patients were either too ill or too afraid of him to do more than lie on the exam table, Henry was a bright light on otherwise trying days.

And then, there was his mother.

So far, Emma had managed to make all of Henry's appointments, and Killian would be lying if he wasn't curious. She'd made it adamantly clear that her son's father wasn't in the picture, and if she were able to bring Henry to the hospital every month to meet with Killian, then she either had a very understanding employer or another benefactor.

Either way, he wanted to know more about her.

Emma was alluring. There were no two ways about it. She was beautiful, yes, he'd have to be blind not to see it. But that wasn't what drew Killian to her - he could walk down the street and find any number of beautiful women. No, Emma Swan was far more than a pretty face. She was a woman who had struggled and survived, who refused to bow down to the way the world worked.

She was a story.

And Killian would love to find out how the next chapter in her story turned out. He'd like to be a part of it.

Most of that stemmed from his ability to treat Henry successfully. Most of what he'd found in his research so far was either geared specifically towards adults who were far more likely to survive treatment, or dangerous to the point where Killian wasn't entirely sure he wanted to even entertain the idea.

Not when the worst-case scenario would leave Emma without the son she clearly molded her life around.

Killian checked his schedule a second time as he left the surgery suite with his newest patient on the way to the recovery ward. He had ten minutes before Emma and Henry were due in his office, which meant he likely had five or so before they would actually be there.

Just enough time to stop off in one of the lavatories and refresh himself after the long surgery.

Killian doused water on his face and scrubbed his hands through his hair before finally looking in the mirror. He looked tired; there wasn't much he could do about that. But his hair was only mildly disheveled and the bags under his eyes weren't too awful. He was presentable enough to pass muster.

 _And just who do you think you're trying to impress, little brother?_ Liam's voice echoed as if he were in the room. _Her son is your patient._

Killian shook his head. He knew. He _knew_ that. Logically.

But it didn't stop him from trying to spruce up his appearance just a little bit more.

He checked his pocket watch, relieved to find he'd only been indisposed for a few minutes, and practically raced to his office.

There was a man sitting in his office.

Killian started abruptly, checked his watch once more to be sure he had the time right, and then caught sight of Henry off to his right, looking through his bookshelves.

Instinctively, he stepped in front of the boy, reaching out to tug Henry behind him.

"Can I help you, sir?" he asked carefully.

The man looked up from where he'd been writing what appeared to be a letter, and smiled. Then, he must have noticed how Killian was guarding Henry because he put the stationery aside and rose slowly to his feet.

"Doctor Jones?" he asked, an easy smile on his face.

"I am. And you are?"

Killian could feel Henry trying to twist out of his grip, and he tightened his fingers on the boy's shoulder. He had never met this man, and the only person he knew to be responsible for Henry's care was Emma. The boy's father was _not_ supposed to be in their lives, and Killian wasn't sure what the next step should be.

"I'm David," the man replied softly, a strange smile now on his face. "I'm Henry's uncle."

"Killian!" Henry drew out every syllable of his name, squirming out from his grasp finally. "This is Momma's brother. She couldn't get out of work today."

Killian finally relaxed, a bit chagrined now that he thought about it. If Henry's father _had_ come back and _did_ mean the boy harm, surely he would have absconded with him rather than bring him to a regularly scheduled appointment.

He felt the tips of his ears go red at the grin that kept growing wider across David's face.

"David Nolan. Pleased to meet you. Emma and Henry have told us all a lot about you. I can't thank you enough for looking after him." Henry's uncle didn't keep the grin for long, turning serious as he continued. "Who did you think I was, just now?"

Killian scratched behind his ear and nodded for Henry to climb up on the exam table. The boy complied easily, unbuttoning his shirt and grimacing at the cold stethoscope came close to his chest. Killian took a long moment to listen to how hard Henry's heart was working, listened to his lungs, and had him hold his breath.

"I was told in no uncertain terms not to mention the person who I thought you might be. I assume that edict remains." Killian kept an eye on his pocket watch as Henry's cheeks puffed out, his eyes screwed shut in concentration.

David made an aborted growl before he turned away from Henry. Out of the corner of Killian's eye, he could see the man's head drop until his chin rested on his chest.

"Who did you think Uncle David was, Killian?" Henry spoke breathlessly when he finally gasped in air. Killian noted the time on his chart, dismayed to see it was almost three seconds shorter than last month's test.

Killian was going to have to find a more permanent solution.

"One of your other doctors, lad. Don't worry about it. Have you been taking all of your medications on time?" he tried to distract Henry.

"Yes, sir. I don't even wait for Momma to remind me. Even though I don't like the one that starts with a D. It tastes funny after I swallow it. Do you mean the mean old doctor who said Momma was being silly about bringing me to her?"

David made another noise that caught Henry's attention.

"Yes, lad. That's the one I meant." He caught David's eye and waited for him to nod.

Killian moved on in the examination, taking notes of Henry's color, temperature, and other vital signs. He had the boy do several different exercises and monitored everything.

Henry completed every test with little prompting and a huge smile.

"All right, Master Henry. You can get dressed and meet your Uncle outside. Good lad."

David followed Killian out of the room, asking questions and looking hopeful.

Killian wished he had better news.

The medications he had prescribed were slowing the symptoms, but they weren't improving them. Nothing he was doing would help the boy in the long run.

Part of Killian was selfishly glad that he wouldn't be the one to break _that_ news to Emma.

* * *

Emma started to measure time by the number of weeks, days, hours until Henry's next appointment. She knew each one brought her closer to a future she was terrified of living in. But no matter how Henry was faring, Killian was optimistic about his chances. He had fiddled with the different combinations of medications, and the current regimen seemed to be working. Henry's ability to hold his breath - which he practiced at every opportunity much to Emma's chagrin - was slowly improving. His color was better, and while he was still out of breath regularly, he was able to play with friends for short periods of time.

At least, that had been the case for the last six months.

Eleven days ago, Emma had sat in Killian's office and talked about Mary Margaret's plans to take the family to the beach that summer, how the ocean air might help Henry and would it be all right if they worked his appointment schedule around the extended vacation.

This morning, at far too early an hour to be truly considered "morning", she had been awoken by Henry's gasps and his weak cries for "Momma". His eyes were open, but glazed with fever. He'd had a cold for the past few days, but a phone call to Killian had assured her that he would likely be fine. If anything got worse, he told her, she could absolutely bring Henry in and he'd treat the boy.

So she hadn't thought twice, bundling Henry up in every layer of winter clothing he had and rushed him to Killian's office. Boston's Children's Hospital was bustling, no matter the hour, and Emma found herself struggling to get someone's attention. When it was apparent that she would have to wait, her little boy curled limply in her arms, Emma stormed past the nurses and stomped all the way to Killian's office.

She had no idea what to do if he wasn't there.

He was.

Curled up on the exam table, half covered by a blanket that had seen better days, Killian Jones looked years younger than the persona he wore when he donned that white coat. Emma wanted to stand there and watch him sleep, commit to memory the face that wasn't lined with concern and weariness, but Henry coughed weakly and buried his face more firmly into her dressing gown.

The noise woke Killian at once.

"Mi… Em-Emma? What are you doing here?" Killian's voice was raspy, his eyes barely open. She watched, frozen, as he half-fell off the table and stumbled a few steps forward. His hair was in complete disarray, one side plastered to his head while the other stuck up at all angles.

"Is Henr- Emma, what's wrong with Henry?" he was wide awake now, moving across the room to take the boy from her arms.

She hadn't realized she was shaking until her son was safely cradled against Killian's chest.

"I… I woke up to him like this. Please. Killian, please, what's wrong with him?" She hadn't intended for the words to come out so frantic, so high pitched. But Henry's lips were blue and his eyes would barely stay open for more than a few seconds at a time. Emma shivered as the cold started to hit her - his body had been radiating so much heat that she hadn't realized she was still in her nightwear. She looked down stupidly, surprised to see David's winter boots covering her feet.

Killian laid Henry out on the exam table he'd just been using as a bed, tipping her son's head back and listening to his breaths. Emma watched, almost completely detached, as he ran his fingers through Henry's tangled hair, murmuring softly before he picked up the blanket he'd been using.

She didn't even notice Killian was moving until the blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, tucked close under her chin.

"Stay here with Henry, lass. I need to get a nurse." He turned to the door, moving quickly.

Emma was still frozen.

"Emma?" he peeked his head back in the room, waiting for her to tear her gaze away from Henry. She was sure her son had never looked so small.

When he called her name again, Emma looked up with tears in her eyes. "He's going to be all right. I'll be right back."

His assurance was just enough to break her free of the terror that was gripping her heart. Emma managed to nod, then moved to Henry's side. She leaned down to kiss his forehead, then offered up a plea for him to come back to her.

The next few hours flew by in a blur of medical tests and garbled speech. Emma found herself curled up in Killian's desk chair, the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. When David asked later, she wouldn't be able to tell him anything that had happened.

She just knew that Killian was looking after Henry and he had smiled at her several times during the process.

"Emma," he whispered, kneeling in front of her. "We need to take Henry for x-rays and then we need to admit him to the ward. Do you want to say goodbye before we take him?"

"Goodbye?" Emma started to shake again. No. _No_. It was just a cold, she couldn't lose him now.

Killian placed his hand on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing soothingly. "I think he has pneumonia, lass. We need to get him in a bed with antibiotics as soon as we can. So he can get better. He's going to be fine, but you're not going to be able to see him for a few days. Did you want to say goodbye before we move him?"

Emma gasped in a breath, and then another. She nodded before trying to stand and untangle herself from the blanket. Killian's hand under her elbow steadied her and Emma moved quickly to her son's side.

The nurse had already unbundled Henry from all the layers Emma had clothed him in, and she could see the struggle for each breath. When she let out a soft cry, Killian's hand came up to rest on her back.

"We'll fix this, Emma. Don't you worry. Henry is going to be just fine in a few days. But we need to take him, now," Killian said softly, his words whispered in her ear.

Emma tried to smile, nodding her acceptance as she reached out to brush the hair from Henry's forehead. Her little boy's eyes opened at the touch and he smiled at her.

"Killian will... take... care of me, Momma," he whispered in between gasps. "Don't worry."

Now her smile turned more genuine as she ignored the fist clenching around her heart. "I won't worry, sweetheart. Not as long as you listen to Killian. Be a good boy for him, all right?"

She kissed his forehead again, then backed away to let Killian lift Henry onto a gurney.

"Stay here, lass, I'll be back as soon as I get him settled."

Emma nodded, then moved by rote back to his desk chair and curled into the soft leather. She tucked the blanket in tightly around her shoulders and forced herself not to pace the length of the room.

It felt as though she sat there for days, her eyes glued to the door while she waited for Killian to come back.

Emma still jumped when the door opened, Killian stepping inside quietly before running his hands through his hair. She met his gaze when he turned around, and didn't miss the look of surprise on Killian's face.

"I thought you might be asleep, Emma. It's still early."

Emma just shook her head. She couldn't sleep. Not when Henry was so sick. Not when she'd fallen asleep to a boy with a cold and woken to him barely breathing. What if she hadn't heard him? What if he'd…

"He's going to be all right, luv. I promise." Killian had moved around the desk when she wasn't paying attention, and his hands were on her shoulders. "Why don't you try to get some sleep? I've got a surgery in an hour and I'll be out of the office until around lunchtime, so no one will disturb you."

Emma shook her head. "How is he?" she asked, needing to know. Terrified to know.

Killian smiled, if a bit sadly. "He's putting on a brave face for everyone, but he's scared. You've raised an amazing boy, Emma."

She felt the side of her mouth quirk up into a smile at the compliment to her boy. "When can I see him?"

Now Killian dropped his chin to his chest, unable to look her in the eyes. "Not until Wednesday, I'm afraid. We ha-"

"-Wednesday?!" Emma couldn't keep her voice down. That was _days_ from now. If Killian thought she was going to wait that long to see Henry, he was sadly mistaken.

"I'm sorry, Emma. I wish it were different, truly I do." Emma could hear the truth of his apology in his tone. "But the hospital only allows fathers to visit on Sundays and both parents on Wednesdays. Unless the child isn't… well, we're not there with Henry, so no use worrying about it."

She stumbled back a few steps and sat heavily in Killian's chair. Wednesday was so far away. What if something happened before then?

Killian knelt before her, taking her shaking hands in his own. "Henry's not even going to know you aren't there, we're going to be giving him so much medication that he'll likely sleep from now until Wednesday. But, you can come here any time and I'll keep you updated. And I'll keep an eye on him."

He paused, ducking his head until Emma looked at him. "Two eyes, as often as I can spare them, even."

Emma smiled softly, the words tickling a memory at the back of her mind and a hint of a nod as she came to terms with being separated from her son.

"Come on," Killian coaxed. "Let's get you some sleep. You can stay as long as you like. It'll be quiet and Henry is just upstairs."

Emma shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes. "I have to get to work soon, I have the opening shift. If I sleep now, I won't make it in time."

Killian nodded. "Then let me at least buy you a cup of coffee, luv. It's the least I can do."

Emma wanted to laugh. The _least_ he could do? She'd barged into his office, interrupting his sleep, and she hadn't even thanked him. And now he felt as though he owed _her_ something?

But still, the idea of sitting down with Killian and letting him take care of her for a little while was appealing. It had been so long since anyone other than David or Mary Margaret had looked out for her.

She nodded.

The smile Killian graced her with almost didn't cause a terrifying clenching of her heart.

Almost.

* * *

Killian watched as Emma stared into her coffee mug as if the secrets of the world were hidden there. Without makeup or even proper clothing, she looked even more enchanting than the first day he'd seen her standing outside his office. She was fierce and she was terrified. She was strong and she was vulnerable. She was ready to fight and she needed to be protected. She was poised to take on the world and she needed a shoulder to lean on.

She was exceptional.

And she was worried about her son. His _patient_.

Killian had to mentally shake himself free of the thoughts that had captivated him since they'd sat down. What on earth was he _doing_?

Thankfully, Emma wasn't privy to his internal monologue. Understandably, she wasn't up to conversation and Killian was almost surprised at how comfortable the silence was. The early morning and the lack of people insulated them from the world, let him believe for a moment that it was just the two of them.

Then Emma seemed to realize what time it was, what she was wearing, and where they were all at once. He saw the world settle on her shoulders again as she rushed out the door with only his promise that Henry was in good hands to give her hope.

Killian had no intention of letting her down.

On a normal day, he spent just enough time in his patients' wards to turn the nurses' watchful gazes from curious to wary. He tried not to get in the way of the routine tasks that they completed for his patients, tried to observe each child's treatment without stepping on their toes.

Today, however, Killian had been at Henry's bedside at every available moment. True to his promise to Emma, the boy slept the day away, hardly aware of what was going on around him. The fever that had gripped him since Emma had brought him in hadn't abated. If anything, it had risen steadily despite the medications that the nurses were administering.

After Nurse Mills shooed Killian off for the fourth time in her shift, he tried to concentrate on his other patients. The morning's surgery was a success, the little girl resting comfortably in her bed. He had a consultation in the emergency room that turned out to be a case of childhood asthma rather than the end of the world that the boy's mother insisted it was. He spent a good amount of time administering vaccines for polio and smallpox amidst a slew of tears.

And Henry slept on.

Killian finally dragged himself back to the boy's bedside for a final check after Nurse Mills signed out for the evening. He needed to check on Henry, but he had no desire to test the ability of the strict nurse to actually kill him with her glare. In this dreary world, he still wouldn't put it past her to have a magic spell that would turn him into a rabbit or a toad.

Killian really needed to get some sleep.

Henry was tossing and turning restlessly, the bedclothes tangled around his legs as he tried to kick free. He was mumbling under his breath and clenching and unclenching his fists. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his eyes darted to and fro under his closed eyelids.

Killian watched sadly as the boy fought against the disease that was attacking him. Henry whimpered quietly as shivers started to wrack his frame and Killian snapped into action, untangling the sheets and tucking them in tightly around the boy. That accomplished, Killian reached out to brush Henry's hair off his forehead, dismayed at the heat that radiated from him.

He really should go back to the office and complete the day's notes. He _should_ go home and get some real sleep - in a bed, in his flat.

He found a chair and set it at Henry's bedside, settling in to watch the boy sleep.

Killian was awoken early the next morning by a pointed finger in his chest and Nurse Mills' disapproving glare. One more check on Henry to see that the boy was still sleeping and no worse for the wear, and Killian slunk off to his office determined to stay out of her hair for at least a few hours. He wasn't on shift until the afternoon, so he could catch a nap in his office after he finished the work he'd ignored the night before.

At least, that was his plan. Right up until he closed the door to his office and collapsed into his desk chair.

Emma was asleep on his exam table.

He blinked, convinced that this was some sort of sleep-deprived hallucination. Killian knew that he should have gone back to his flat between shifts to shower and sleep, but he had thought he was more in control of his faculties.

Then Emma shifted on the plinth, the threadbare blanket sliding off her shoulder and revealing a rumpled waitress uniform that did nothing to detract from her natural beauty. She looked far more relaxed as she slept - softer and younger without the weight of the world on her shoulders. He wanted to reach out and smooth her hair back, comfort her before she woke to reality once more.

 _No, Jones. No!_ Killian berated himself even as he moved to tuck the fabric more securely around Emma. She reached out in her sleep, snagging the blanket and pulling it under her chin.

Their fingers brushed as Killian tried to snatch his hand away, and the jolt of electricity that ran up his arm startled him.

And her, if the wide green eyes that were staring up at him were indication.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, backpedaling until he ran into the desk behind him. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Emma sat up slowly, still shaking off the vestiges of sleep as she tugged the blanket around her shoulders. She didn't speak, only stared at his feet.

"I just saw Henry," Killian tried to draw her gaze to his. "He's sleeping as comfortably as we can make him."

One side of Emma's mouth twitched up in a smile, but it was short-lived. "He's always been a restless sleeper. Since he was a baby."

"Aye, he was kicking about the whole night," Killian replied softly.

Emma finally looked up at him, surprise etched in her features. She watched him for a moment, and Killian waited until she nodded. He thought it might have been in thanks.

The moment passed and Emma looked down at her lap, playing with a loose thread in the blanket.

"That's why I came here last night," she whispered some time later. "I've never spent a night apart from him before. It was too quiet and I couldn't sleep."

Killian moved across the room to sit next to her on the table. He reached out hesitantly and took her hand in his. Even when she tensed at the contact, he didn't let go. "He's going to be fine, luv. You'll see in a few days."

Emma nodded, her fingers tightening around his. She huffed out a breath and slumped a bit, letting her shoulder rest against his. Her head turned until her face was buried against his arm. It was his turn to stiffen, the line between doctor and patient blurring more and more in the early morning hours. He should stand up, move over to his desk, and start his paperwork. He should usher her out of his office, see her to a train, and take his own back to his bed.

He continued to sit next to Emma until the sun was high in the sky and his shirt was damp with her tears.

* * *

Wednesday came all too slowly for Emma's liking. She hadn't gotten more than a few hours of sleep since Henry had been admitted - and most of that sleep came on the hard table in Killian's office. She had given up even attempting to lie down in the room of David's house that was set aside for her and Henry.

She was finishing up her shift at the diner, counting down the minutes until she could tear off her apron and race to the train that would take her to the hospital. To Henry's side at last.

"Need you to stick around, girlie," her boss sidled up to her and sneered. "Ashley called in sick, her runt has the flu or some such. So you gotta stay."

The flu? Emma immediately felt a stab of empathy for Ashley and her little girl. But Henry had pneumonia. Which her boss knew all too well. She couldn't stay. She _couldn't_ miss the hour she could sit with her little boy.

Emma was already shaking her head as the man turned his back to her. "I can't stay today. I have to go see Henry. I've been here since we opened this morning."

He didn't even turn around. "You'll stay or you'll turn in your apron. Don't have time for freeloaders."

Emma stared at his back. She needed this job. She couldn't just quit. She was already taking too much advantage of her brother's generosity.

Emma took off the apron and left it crumpled on the diner's floor.

She could get another job. David would understand - he'd probably have yelled at her if she _didn't_ quit. Henry needed her.

Everything else came second.

The panic didn't hit until she crammed into the train car, slipping into an inch of free space and reaching for something solid to hold onto.

She had just quit the only source of money she had. Henry was in the hospital for who knew how long, she needed to go food shopping before Mary Margaret did, she needed to keep hiding money in David's stash when he wasn't looking for the rent he wasn't charging her, winter was coming and they needed warmer clothes, so many things that she couldn't afford if she wasn't working.

A single tear ran unchecked down her cheek and Emma was too caught up in the storm of emotion to wipe it away.

She ignored the looks of the other commuters, trying to concentrate on breathing steadily. She'd figure it out. They weren't going to be on the street. David wouldn't let that happen. She'd be in his debt from now until Henry was a grandfather, but the important thing was that she was going to see him.

Gritting her teeth, Emma steeled herself against the way her mind kept spiraling. She was stronger than this. She had clawed her way out of Phoenix by her own grit and determination and this was just a bump in the road. She'd just have to punch back and show people that she was strong. That she was able to care for her son.

Slower than she'd have liked but more quickly than she was ready for, Emma was standing outside the hospital's doors, ready and waiting to be allowed to see Henry. Anxious to be let into the ward, she ducked quickly into a bathroom to check her appearance and then made her way to the front desk.

It wasn't great, but it would have to do. She wasn't prepared to miss a minute with Henry.

Finally past the receptionist, Emma hurried up the stairs to her son's ward. She still had a few minutes, but not many.

She almost bumped into Killian in her haste.

"Whoa, luv, slow down. You won't miss him."

Killian's hands on her shoulders sent a warmth through her that left Emma wanting to curl into his embrace. She looked up and tried to smile, but the weight of the day wasn't letting up just because she wanted to ignore it.

Killian misinterpreted her sadness, rushing to assure her. "Henry's going to be fine, Emma. He's already very much improved, and I expect we won't have to keep him much longer than next week. You'll see in just a moment."

Emma nodded, looking up to smile at Killian. She knew her son was going to be all right. He just needed rest and Killian's care. That wasn't what she was worried about at the moment; no, what she was worried about was herself.

And Emma hated herself a little bit for it.

"I… it's not that. I'm anxious to see him, but…" she trailed off. Since when did she feel the need to unload all of her burdens on Killian? Emma shook her head, burying her worries under the need to see Henry. "I have to go. I'll be late."

Killian took a step back. "Of course. He's been asking when you'd be allowed to see him all day. Come check in with me after, aye? I'll be in my office."

A real smile crossed her features knowing that Henry had been awake and talking to Killian. The last time she'd seen him, he was so weak that she'd been afraid…

Well, no use thinking about it now. Emma would be able to look at him with her own two eyes in just a moment.

Henry was beaming when she finally made it to his bedside, but the dark circles under his eyes accented the brightness of his eyes while two red spot highlighted his cheeks and stood out against his pale skin. Her son was still very sick and trying his best not to look it.

Emma rushed forward and wrapped him up in the tightest hug she could manage without jostling him too much. She'd missed him more than she could have ever imagined.

"Hi, Momma," Henry whispered against her shoulder, his arms coming up around her in a weak hug.

"Hey, Kid," she murmured back into his hair. "I've missed you so, so much."

Henry nodded his head in agreement, cuddling closer until his head was tucked under her chin and his fingers were playing idly with her necklace. Emma ignored the glares from the nurse who had directed her to Henry's bed and shifted until she was sitting behind him.

"That's Nurse Mills," Henry murmured when he looked over to where Emma's attention was drawn. "She's nice to me, but I don't think she likes Killian very much."

"She doesn't?"

Henry shook his head against her shoulder. Emma had to wait for him to stop coughing, had to wait until the wheezing gasps slowed back into even breaths.

"No. She always yells at him or glares at him when she gets here in the morning." He paused and Emma wondered if he was going to start coughing again. It took Henry a minute, but he continued. "Then she comes and straightens out my blanket and sheets like he's done something to them."

Emma had to stop herself from tucking the blanket more securely around his slim shoulders. Her parenting skills weren't on trial. No one was going to think she wasn't taking care of her son.

"How often does this happen?" she asked, trying not to think about how she _was_ going to take care of Henry with no job.

Henry looked up at her, a funny little grin on his face. "Every morning. Killian comes and reads to me before I fall asleep, and then Nurse Mills yells at him in the morning."

He tucked his head back under her chin and Emma felt him relax. She knew that he would be asleep soon, but she held him close anyway. It would be a long week before she could see him again and Emma intended to savor every moment. "What has he been reading to you?"

Henry's words started to slur with the pull of sleep, but she could feel the smile against her chest. "It's a brand new book, he said. Just came out. It's about a ring and these creatures called Hobbits. There's some Elves, too, I think."

"I think Uncle David has it, but I'll have to ask Killian what it's called. Maybe Santa Claus will bring it to you in a few months." Henry nodded slowly, and it didn't take long until he slumped completely into her embrace. Loathe to let go of him, Emma held Henry close until the nurse came to shoo all of the parents away from their children's beds.

Her thoughts were running amok, flitting between how to tell David that her boss had let her go and how to ask Killian if he'd been spending every night at her son's bedside when she couldn't. About what this meant to her, to _him_ , and what she should do about it.

If she should do _anything_ about it.

As if he was conjured from her thoughts, Killian rounded the corner just as Emma was reluctantly backing away from Henry's ward. She could just see the foot of her son's bed from the window until Nurse Mills blocked the door with a glare.

"Ah," Killian's accented voice whispered in her ear. "I see you've raised the ire of the Evil Queen, luv. Bad luck, that."

Emma managed some sort of a jumping turn to cover how badly he'd startled her. "What?" she asked incredulously.

"Nurse Mills." Killian jutted his chin towards the ward, one hand coming under Emma's elbow to steady her.

"You call her the Evil Queen?"

A full-fledged grin brightened Killian's features and he nodded. "Not to her face, of course. But she reigns supreme over that ward. Step one toe out of line and, well…"

Despite everything weighing down on her, Emma found herself smiling at the boyish shrug of innocence that Killian adopted. The lightheartedness was short-lived, however, and all of Emma's worries came crashing down again. Her lower lip trembled and she had to break eye contact to keep from tearing up. She was stronger than _this_.

"Come on, Emma," Killian whispered as he extended his hand. "Let's go back to my office for a tick."

She laced her fingers between his, taking comfort in their strength. Emma could be strong after, when she had to face David and Mary Margaret. For now, she wanted to concentrate on her hand in his.

Killian shut the door to his office without letting go of her hand. Emma thought about pulling away, thought about putting some space between them, but he wrapped her in a hug before she could move.

The feeling of his arms around her was a foreign comfort. Emma stiffened for a moment in his embrace, wanted to pull away and run for the exit. She wanted to go hide in her room in David's house and wallow for a little while.

But when Killian started to let go, stuttering an apology, Emma realized she was more uncomfortable with him backing away than she was with him staying close. So without letting herself think too closely about it, she wrapped her arms around his waist and tucked herself into him.

Killian's arms drew her closer and he dropped his chin on her head.

"What's got you so vexed, luv?" he asked quietly. "Surely you saw that Henry is doing better."

Emma nodded. She had seen that. She believed he was going to be all right. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her boy up and take him home, but she knew this was the best place for him right now.

But seeing Henry didn't miraculously find her a job. It didn't pay the bills that were going to pile up or erase the sympathetic looks her brother and his wife were going to wear. In the last year or so of living with them, Emma had shed some of the armor that being an orphan and almost marrying Neal had forged for her.

It was hard to put it back on.

Emma wasn't sure how long they stood there, wrapped up in each other in the tiny office. Her emotions kept see-sawing back and forth - anger at her employer, worry about the future, anger at herself, contentment at being in Killian's embrace.

The last one scared her. When Neal had left her, Emma had vowed to herself that she would never trust, never rely on, another man for her own well-being. But the longer she stood here, the less she wanted to run. The more she wanted to tell Killian everything - to see if he had a solution where all she saw were more problems threatening to bury her.

After a while, Killian pulled away, smiling down at her before the sting of rejection could take hold. "Come sit down, Emma. You don't have to tell me what's wrong, but I'm willing to listen if you want me to. Whatever you need."

He continued to surprise her. People just didn't seem to think like that - at least, not around her. She didn't even think like that. It was always, _always_ , whatever Henry needed. Right now, Henry needed rest. He needed a warm place to sleep, a strong mother to help him heal and grow. He needed her to have a way to provide for him.

And Emma didn't have that at the moment.

"I lost my job today," she whispered, wringing her hands together. "Or… I quit. I think."

She heard Killian's sharp intake of breath, let him pull her close as they sat on the exam table.

"What happened?" He sounded so sincere, so worried for her.

So she told him.

She told him everything - what happened that morning, how she hated the way her boss looked at her like she was a bug he had to put up with, how she was worried that when she told David he wouldn't be angry, but that he might be disappointed.

Emma was pacing by the end of it, her steps echoing in the small room as she stalked back and forth. Back and forth. Past Killian as he sat calmly on the table, listening intently and following her with his eyes.

He tried to comfort her. "It was the-"

"-Killian, I _know_ it was the right thing to do," Emma cut him off, her voice sounding a little more wild than she'd intended. "But it doesn't change the fact that it happened."

She didn't stop moving, stalking in front of Killian. Her hands came up to tug on her hair at the scalp, and the pain grounded her slightly. Emma didn't realize that he'd stood up and stepped into her path until she ran into his chest. Killian's hands came up to untangle hers, his fingers carding through her hair soothingly. He pulled her closer, one hand cupping the back of her head while his other arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"It'll be okay, luv. We'll figure it out." The combination of his accent and the sincerity in his tone had the rope that had furled around Emma's chest starting to loosen. She snaked her arms around Killian's waist, burrowing into his warmth. _Only for a moment_ , she promised herself, ducking her head further under his chin.

 _Just for a moment._

Emma wasn't sure when she'd closed her eyes, content to breathe in Killian's scent and let the world float away from them for a moment. So when his hand moved from her hair to tilt up her chin, she wasn't expecting it.

His head ducked down, and Emma heard the sharp intake of breath. Her own lungs froze, time seemed to slow down, and then she felt the first tentative brush of his lips against her own. Emma's hands fisted in the back of his shirt, tilting her head up further. Killian pulled back only slightly before leaning back in, kissing her once, twice, three times with butterfly kisses. Emma had just opened her eyes, not entirely sure she wasn't conjuring this up in her imagination, when Killian leaned down for the final time. His own eyes were open, the blue of them almost lost to the black of his pupils. He captured her lips with his own, sliding his hand up past her ear and back into her hair.

Emma's eyes closed again, allowing her to surrender to the feeling that he was possessing her completely. Her knees went weak as Killian tilted his head, silently begging to deepen the kiss with a swipe of his tongue against her lower lip.

The second Emma parted her lips for him, Killian pulled back as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over them.

"I'm… I'm so sorry, lu… Emma. Miss Swan. Emma. I shouldn't… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." His breaths were coming hard, a combination of panic and shame in his words and his eyes.

Emma's own breathing was stuttered, but for an entirely different reason. Her hands were still tangled in the back of Killian's shirt, refusing to loosen their grip. She wouldn't - couldn't - let him go. Not now.

Mary Margaret would have a fit of apoplexy if she knew what Emma was contemplating. David would be mortified. No proper woman of the age would do what she was about to do.

Emma finally abandoned her grip on Killian's back to grab him by the lapels of his white coat and tugged him down until she fused their lips back together.

He froze for a moment, she could feel the indecision running through him, but Emma didn't let him go, didn't give him time to object as she darted her own tongue out to tease at his lip.

It was barely a moment after that when Killian gave in to his own desires and damned whatever sense of propriety that must have stalled him before to Hell. His grip in her hair and around her shoulders tightened as he opened under her touch, letting her take the lead.

When they finally pulled back to breathe, soft gasps in time with each other that did little to calm the racing of Emma's heart, she was barely aware of how he had backed her into the exam table. The sharp edge was digging into the backs of her thighs, but Emma didn't move. Killian's forehead rested against her own, and his eyes were still slightly shut.

There was a sweet little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and Emma nosed forward to kiss it - a chaste brush of her lips against the corner of his own.

The smile turned into a grin and Killian finally opened his eyes - the blue only just barely returning as his breathing slowed.

"That was…" he whispered, seemingly at a loss for how to finish his thoughts.

Emma was in the same boat - she wanted to tell him it was a one-time thing, that they shouldn't have done that, that they should take a step back. But she couldn't… she _wouldn't_. Not when it felt this good to be wrapped up in his arms and the constant nagging she felt to _run_ was blissfully absent.

She pushed up onto her toes, kissing him sweetly once more and derailing any need to fill the space between them with words. Whatever this _was_ could work itself out in their own time. Emma was content to let it play out.

* * *

Killian was on cloud nine. He didn't know what had come over him in the moment, but when Emma had reciprocated, when she had pulled him back in again and again, he was done for. There were so many reasons they shouldn't. So many reasons he should back off and keep the professional boundary firmly in place.

But he couldn't stop smiling, couldn't stop replaying their stolen moment in his head at every opportunity.

Even the voice of his conscience - usually gruff and sounding suspiciously like his brother - was silent. Something this good, something that felt this _right_ , couldn't be wrong. It just couldn't.

So Killian didn't fight it. He flew through his shifts, checking on Henry as often as he could manage - pleased with the boy's progress. Emma spent most of her days scouring Boston for work, but she stopped by at some point every day - bringing him a sandwich or coffee, leaving him with a kiss and a smile.

He could see the strain that losing her job was taking on her. There were bags under Emma's eyes and a tense set to her shoulders that told him she hadn't yet made any progress. Killian spent every free moment with her working to ease some of the tension, cuddling up to her on the exam table and keeping her updated on Henry's progress. He wanted to take her out - a real night on the town - but between keeping Henry company and working his shifts, Killian hadn't been back to his flat for more than a few hours total since they'd kissed the first time.

"Have you seen my mom today?" Henry's voice interrupted his thoughts as he snuck over to the boy's bed. Nurse Mills wouldn't dare remove him once he got to his patient's side, but she had no such reservations if she could waylay him.

The glare Killian received from her a moment later showed him that he had been successful - but it had been a close call.

"I did, young sir. She says that she misses you and can't wait to see you again." Killian smiled as he dropped into the uncomfortable chair and took the book Henry offered him eagerly. "How much further did you get?"

"Not far," Henry pouted, pointing at the bookmark he'd left. He coughed a few times, the sound thankfully mostly dry. He looked up sheepishly when he was finished. "I fell asleep."

Waving Nurse Mills off, Killian sat Henry up further and adjusted the pillows. His color was good and there was no accompanying wheeze as his breathing settled. The boy was improving steadily and Killian was pleased with the progress.

Henry had been lucky - there hadn't been any setbacks, and a quick check of how his heart sounded added to the good news of the day. His heartbeat sounded nearly as strong and as steady as it had before the pneumonia had gripped him.

Killian threaded the stethoscope back around his neck and sat back thoughtfully. He was still pondering how much longer he'd have to keep the boy when Henry piped up.

"Killian? Can you read to me now?"

He opened to the bookmarked page and read until Henry dropped off to sleep during the trip through Moria.

Killian wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep, himself, but the flick to his ear woke him up quickly.

"Get out of here, Jones, some of us have work to do." The nurse's sharp tone woke him the rest of the way, but Killian took his time stretching before he stood from the chair. He leaned over Henry, listened to his heart and lungs once more, then he finally smirked at the impatient woman at his side and sauntered away from the ward.

Killian could feel the glare at his back and counted himself lucky that she hadn't turned him to dust.

He resolved to stay away from the ward until Nurse Mills signed out for the night. Killian was far more use to Henry and Emma alive and in one piece. With that in mind, he headed back to his office to pick up his paperwork and head back to his flat for a shower and a nap in a real bed. His back was on fire and he needed to stretch out on a soft mattress for an hour or two.

He slept for ten.

It was two days later when Killian found himself sitting in his office, tapping his feet under the desk incessantly as he waited for Emma to stop by. She hadn't managed to see him yesterday, a note left under the door to his office apologizing for missing him and promising to bring lunch today. Killian missed her - he hadn't known that it was possible to miss someone as much as he did her, especially when it had been so short a time between meetings.

And he had something to run by her. Something that brought a grin to his face and made him even more impatient to see Emma.

He wanted to make her smile.

Killian had attempted to focus on his work, jotting down progress notes on his patients and trying in vain not to keep glancing at the door after every word. He was failing miserably. Another glance at his pocket watch, another turn of the page, another few words down.

Another glance at his pocket watch.

He couldn't help it. He looked up at the door again, hoping, wanting.

Emma was leaning against the doorjamb, watching him.

"Well hello there, luv," he gave up all pretense of work and jumped up to usher her in the office.

A gentle close of the door, a quiet 'snick' of the lock, and she was in his arms with her mouth fused to his. She smelled wonderful - some combination of flowers and sweetness that Killian thought he could happily drown in. Emma melted into his embrace, her head tucking under his chin once they broke apart to breathe.

She was dressed in her best clothes, she must have just come from another interview. But the weary hold she had on his lapels and the tension in her back told him everything he needed to know.

It hadn't gone well.

But that didn't matter now. Emma was in his arms and he had a plan. It was a good plan. As long as she didn't object to his meddling, anyway.

"Hello," she whispered after she pulled back from his embrace.

Killian smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. Now that they had given in, intimacy like this was easy. He wasn't sure why he'd been so wary of this. Putting those thoughts aside, Killian led her to the desk and watched as she spread out a lunch for them. They ate in comfortable silence, the fresh lemonade out of a beat-up thermos and the carefully cut sandwiches one of the best meals he'd eaten in awhile.

He had to run right after lunch, begged her to wait for him as he made his rounds. Emma smiled demurely and pulled a novel from the small basket that had held her lunch. With her settled comfortably at his desk, Killian rushed off to complete his tasks before he could make his way back to her.

He stopped in to check on Henry after he saw all of his other patients, filled out the paperwork he needed under Nurse Mills' sharp glare, and rushed out of the ward before she could chase him out. Killian heard Henry's giggles follow him down the hall and it brought a smile to his face.

Emma was right where he left her, thoroughly engrossed in her book. It was his turn to lean against the door and just watch her. She was truly stunning, her hair loose and flowing down her back. She had found one of his fountain pens, the end of it tapping against her lower lip when she wasn't twirling it through her fingers.

"Like mother, like son," Killian finally whispered, smiling gently when Emma looked up at him.

"More like the other way 'round," she replied, laying the book down and folding the corner of one of the pages. Killian longed to smooth out the crease in favor of a bookmark. "I never liked reading growing up. But Henry, the Lord only knows where he got his love of books from. He kind of rubbed off on me."

"He's tenacious, and I'm sure he got that from you."

Killian moved to her side, offering her a hand up and led her to the table so he could pull her close. They curled up on the table together, her resting between his legs as she rested against his chest. He stroked his hand through her hair, careful amongst the tangles at the ends.

It seemed mere moments and an eternity later when Emma spoke again.

"I didn't get the job again today," she whispered, sounding a little too defeated for Killian's liking. "He didn't say it, but when I mentioned Henry, I could tell that it was over. The bills are piling up, and I know David wants to help - wants to take care of it all - but they're not made of money, either."

Killian nodded. It wasn't right, and it wasn't fair, but it wasn't the first employer who had turned her down for her son.

But that wouldn't matter for much longer.

"That's all right, luv. I think I've got it all figured out, if you'll give me a moment?"

Emma sat up abruptly, a wary look in her eyes. "What? I wasn't looking for a handout."

He smirked. There was the stubborn streak that Henry came by honestly. "I wouldn't dream of offering you charity, Emma. But I do have a few options for you. And a surprise."

Killian tugged at her hand until Emma relented and tucked herself back in under his chin. He wrapped his arms around her and relaxed.

"The first one is probably the easiest to explain. I live above a diner and I happened to overhear the proprietor and her granddaughter having a rather feisty argument this morning on my way back to work. It seems the young Ruby Lucas is off to the Big Apple to… I think she used the term 'to find herself'." Killian tilted his head to see Emma's response. Her eyes were flashing with interest, but she was guarded as well. He couldn't blame her. Killian pushed onwards. "After she stormed off, I talked to Granny - seems she's out a waitress and would rather fill the position sooner over later. She knows the basics about Henry and she's willing to make sure that you won't miss a single appointment. You just have to go down and talk to her. I'll take you tomorrow afternoon and introduce you."

Emma sat straight up, turning to face him with her eyes wide. "You… you found me a job?"

Killian reached up to scratch behind his ear - aware of the tic but unable to stop himself. "Aye?" he asked nervously.

"And she's okay with me having Henry? He might have to come with me some days." There was a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth, and Killian longed to kiss it thoroughly.

"She's going to love him, and will probably spoil young master Henry rotten." Killian laughed quietly, just imagining how quickly the terse Granny Lucas was going to fall under the boy's spell.

Emma launched herself forward, a sweet giggle escaping before she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. Killian could see the weight leaching off her shoulders as she realized her money worries were coming to a middle.

He had a plan to get her the rest of the way as well.

When Emma pulled back, there were tears checked in her eyes and the green was shimmering beautifully. Killian had never seen her this at ease.

"I have another idea, too, if you'll hear me out. A way to help you and Henry, both." Killian was far more nervous about this one. He'd have to lay it out carefully for her, get her to see this was the best option. Even if it didn't sound like it.

For this idea, Killian needed her full and undivided attention. "It's about Henry's care moving forward."

Emma sat up like someone had yanked her backwards. The relaxed look in her eyes was long gone, replaced by barely concealed fear. Her shoulders were pulled back, and both hands had clenched tightly into fists. Killian had seen his share of mama bear types in his years wearing a white coat - but none quite so protective as Emma was now.

"What about Henry's care?" she whispered, her voice almost strangled.

Killian nodded. "He's doing all right, luv. We could keep him going for another few years on the regiment he's on now. But that's not getting him better. And there's only so much the hospital will allow me to do with his care as is."

Emma broke eye contact, the hem of her dress suddenly very interesting. He could see the weight settling once more and hurried to continue explaining his plan.

"Pediatric cardiology is a comparatively new field. There isn't a lot of research in it as we speak. Twenty years from now, maybe there would be more avenues of accepted treatment for children like Henry. But right now, the established protocols are fairly mainstream, you understand?" Killian waited for her to nod.

"Here's the thing, though, Emma. As a member of this hospital, I'm required to do research in my field. To publish papers and follow case studies. Those cases, with special patients who have rare diagnoses, I'm allowed some leeway. If I tell the hospital that I'm taking on Henry as a case study, they'll allow me to pursue avenues of treatment that aren't as well established."

Emma balked, as he feared she would. She practically leapt from the table, backpedaling across the room as if the physical space would protect her son.

"You want Henry to be some kind of experiment?" she hissed.

"No, Emma. No, not an experiment. Never." Killian rushed his words, trying to reassure her. "He's a person. He's your son. I would never…"

"So what? What do you mean?" Killian counted it as a win that Emma hadn't bolted out the door and tried to break into the ward to steal Henry away.

"What I mean is that your boy would be officially be my number one priority. It would mean that the hospital would require weekly updates to his treatment and responses. It would mean that I wouldn't have to garner their approval to modify his medications or how we proceed. We, Emma. We. Together. I wouldn't do anything with Henry without your approval." Killian's heart was in his throat, beating out a staccato rhythm. He wanted… he _needed_ her to agree. For them both.

Some of the cornered animal look bled out of Emma's stance, and she took a few steps back towards him.

"I told you I wanted to save him, luv. I still do. His condition provides a real challenge to improving his life expectancy, and Emma, there's nothing I love more than a challenge. Gives me the impetus I need to go against the grain. For him. For _him_ , luv. Please let me do this. Please let me force the hospital to allow me to do everything I can to save him. Please, Emma." Killian knew he was begging, his voice cracking under the strain. But he thought about the little boy they were discussing, his bright smile and how he questioned everything, how he loved reading and listened with rapt attention when Killian read to him. He needed to fix Henry's heart as much as Emma needed her little boy to grow up.

Emma took another few steps back to him. There were tears in her eyes, just barely held back. "I love him, Killian. I can't lose him."

"I know," he whispered. "I love him, too. I'm not supposed to, but I do. I won't let you lose him if I can do anything about it. If you'll let me."

The dam broke and Emma fell into his arms, sobbing as she nodded. Killian held her close, whispering nothing and everything into her ear, kissing the shell of it every few words. His shirt was damp with her tears, her hair sticking to her face.

She'd never looked more beautiful. Never.

He wanted to tell her that Henry wasn't the only one he loved. He wanted to take her home and show her exactly how much she'd gotten under his skin. But now wasn't the time. He spoke to the crown of her head as he put it on the line.

"You'll let me then, luv? You'll let me tell the hospital I'm taking him on as a case study?" Killian swore his heart stopped completely as he waited for her answer.

"Save my son, Killian," Emma looked into his eyes. "Do whatever you can to save him."

He grinned, the fist around his heart finally loosening as he thought of all the new options that would be available to him. It meant hours upon hours of research, and some of his routine patients would likely have to be transferred. But it would mean more time focused on Henry, less on vaccination clinic hours.

And, coincidentally, more time with Emma.

"There's more you should know, luv," he told her. "More that will make this even easier for you going forward."

Emma waited, the hint of a smile threatening to break through the fear she'd taken on like a mantle.

"The hospital pays for all my research. Taking Henry on as a case study means that his hospital bills are fully covered. You're not going to have to worry about affording his treatment or burdening your brother with the costs. All you have to worry about now is keeping both of you happy."

Her breath caught in her chest, her face turning pale with shock. Tears coursed down her face freely as Killian tucked her securely into his embrace. Her knees were weak as she clung to him and she was shaking.

Emma looked up some time later, tear tracks staining her cheeks and her eyes puffy from crying. When she reached for him, threading her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, Killian's mind went blank.

Emma pulled his head down to hers, brushing her lips across his so lightly, he almost couldn't feel it. Her nose pressed against the side of his, the stickiness of her tears wiping off onto his skin as she nuzzled his cheek.

Killian wasn't idle long, trailing kisses along her jaw and up to her ear where he whispered a soft, "Thank you for trusting me". He buried his face in her neck for a moment, content to bask in the softness of her skin and the sweet scent of Emma in his nose.

When he finally pulled back, she was smiling again, any sign of tears long gone - almost as if they'd never existed. Killian leaned forward anyway, kissing each of Emma's eyelids and tasting the salt that remained.

"You said you had a surprise for me?" Emma asked coyly, one finger toying with the button of his dress shirt, looking at him through her lashes.

He forgot his own name.

How was a man supposed to remember what surprise he had promised when she looked at him like _that?_

"Uhh… umm…" he stuttered for a moment, just staring at Emma, feeling the quirk of a smile cross his features.

And then he remembered. Her surprise. The reason he couldn't take her back to his flat or out for an evening on the town. At least not this night. Killian Jones had every intention of courting her properly. And it would start with dinner and a show at the theatre just as soon as she was available.

If she'd have him.

But that was a question for another day. Today, he had something to show her.

Killian checked the time, needing this to work out just right. If they took it slowly, they should make it just in time.

"Follow me, luv."

Killian wanted to tangle his fingers with hers, but outside the walls of his office, within the confines of the hospital, this relationship couldn't exist. So he settled for meandering through the halls with her at his side, just a touch closer than was professionally acceptable. They talked about everything and nothing, his brother and hers, their sisters-in-law and the women's propensity for ruling their households with a frighteningly iron fist.

Killian couldn't have timed it better if he tried.

Emma stopped in her tracks with a quiet cry, both hands coming up to cover her mouth.

Nurse Mills was opening the door to the ward, Henry just at her elbow, still trying to do up the buttons of his shirt.

The boy looked up at his mother's call, a blinding smile lighting up his face as he abandoned his shirt and ran for her. "Momma!"

Emma dropped to her knees and scooped Henry into her arms, burying her face in his neck.

"Killian said you were taking me home today!" the boy yelled, causing Emma to pull her head away for a moment before she tucked him even closer. Her hand cupped the back of Henry's head and she was smiling brilliantly. When she looked up at Killian in askance, he grinned and pointed at Henry.

"Surprise, luv."

The sound of her laughter was sweet and light. Killian vowed to make her laugh every day from now on.

* * *

 **So in my original vision for this fic, we would get all the way from Killian meeting Henry and Emma to the happily ever after. But as these things tend to happen with me, the story mutated and became too long for just a one-shot. Consider it complete as is, but I fully intend to get them all to the riding off into the sunset stage of the story someday.**  
 **(aka I still have a ton of grade-A level angst left to write in this universe, including the original plot that was supposed to occur from the prompt I am keeping a secret at this point lest I give it all away.)**

 **I'm really proud of this fic, and I hope that you'll let me know what you think after you finish reading. Thank you!**


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